


Nightmares in the Night Court

by Writers_____Block2019



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:18:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_____Block2019/pseuds/Writers_____Block2019
Summary: A one shot of when Rhys goes to wake up Feyre in CH. 17 during her nightmare. From Rhys's POV"Open your eyes...it was a dream."





	Nightmares in the Night Court

Rhysand POV Ch 17:

The evening seemed to have gone smoothly enough.

There were a few accusatory glances and sharp jibes here and there but, for the most part, Feyre looked at me—actually _looked_ at me—in a way that didn’t feel like daggers piercing into my skin. She was actually trying tonight, like she _wanted_ to belong.

And she’d agreed.

She’d agreed to stay.

_She wants to stay_.

Just as I was settling into sleep, somewhat at peace for once, there were screams flying down the bond.

As I immediately threw off my covers and sprinted to her room, I saw her dream:

“Lying, traitorous human,” a voice purred, sending a chill down my spine. Though I’d heard her voice every night between Feyre’s dreams and my own, Amarantha’s voice still made my blood boil. “With your filthy, lying heart,” the voice continued.

_No, no, no,_ I sent down the bond, _Wake up, Feyre, wake up._

My words dissolved into nothingness against her wall of terror.

“You’re as much as a monster as me,” Amarantha sneered and I stumbled at Feyre’s door. She thought that—Feyre truly though herself a monster. Even in her sleep she loathed her existence. My heart throbbed for her and I threw her door open.

I coughed.

Smoke.

I screamed her name, over and over, trying to extinguish the flames myself but to no avail. Though her bed was ablaze, Feyre was untouched by it. As my words did nothing, I finally climbed atop the bed—though the flames threatened to scorch me—and I straddled her as I shook her and yelled my mate’s name.

I felt her hear me this time.

“Open your eyes,” I demanded, trying not to allow my voice to quake. Her eyes flew open and she coughed on her own smoke. I examined her quickly, looking for any signs of hurt, any injury. “It was a dream,” I said, practically panting.

She looked unconvinced but looked at me as I was looking at her; as if seeing if I was hurt— _no_. I stopped myself from going into those thoughts of hopefulness. Feyre was probably wondering what the hell I was doing on top of her.

“A dream,” I repeated, trying to calm that fear in her eyes. Her breathing slowed a little and she looked at the bed, which was destroyed. With the horror directed toward herself rather than her dream, Feyre looked at her hands, still ablaze. Suddenly, I was shoved off of the bed with a hard shoulder. I watched just as Feyre slammed into a dresser near her bed before sprinting to the bathing room, surely to hurl up the dinner I’d been trying to make her eat more of.

Though my side was sore due to her new Fae strength, I made my way toward her and pulled back her hair.

“Breathe,” I instructed, “imagine them winking out like candles, one by one.”

There was surprise that flittered unconsciously down the bond, followed by one terrible thought:

_He could hear_.

I knew better than to think Feyre was thinking about me. No, she was thinking about the bastard of Spring, Tamlin. Just now was Feyre realizing he’d not once come to her aid as she suffered through her dreams? Did she only now know that he woke up as much as she did due to her petrified screams? The thought made me sick.

Feyre vomited again and the flames began to disintegrate into nothing. I felt a surge of pride as she got control of herself.

“Well,” I said, “that’s one way to do it.” She looked surprised the flames extinguished, but relieved all the same.

_Oh god,_ I heard her think, _ohgodohgodohgod._ The panic was rising in her again and she vomited more.

I tightened my grip on her hair and spoke without meaning to.

“I have this dream, where it’s not me stuck under her, but Cassian or Azriel. And she’s pinned their wings to the bed with spikes, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. She’s commanded me to watch, and I have no choice but to see how I failed them.” The words flew out of my mouth and I loosed a breath as she flushed the toilet and finally looked at me.

“You never failed them,” she said, a little breathlessly, and I kept myself from snorting.

“I did…horrible things to ensure that.”

“So did I,” she reasoned, her mind instantly going to the thought of the murdered faeries. _Oh, Feyre,_ I thought with great sadness. She began throwing up once again and I ran a soft hand down her back, which was slick with sweat. She finally leaned against the bathtub.

“The flames?” She asked. I was glad she wanted to talk about something else.

“Autumn Court,” I said simply and continued to stroke her back.

Within minutes, her eyes fluttered closed and Feyre fell into a calm sleep. I gently lifted her into my arms, careful not to disturb her. For once, her mind was quiet. I waved a hand and exchanged the soiled and ripped sheets for new clean ones. Before placing her in the bed, I looked at her for a moment and smiled.

_My mate is here._

_She is safe and she is here._

The reassuring thought was enough to let me tuck her into bed and leave her.


End file.
